Veela's Object of Affection aren't always happy
by TheLiasonRobes
Summary: What happens when you start having dreams of someone? Nothing, most of the time. But what happens if that person has dreams of you back? Coincidence, I think not! Rated M for swearing, and possibly Lemons.
1. Chapter 1

Veela's objects of affection aren't always happy

AN: This is my first fic. I had always enjoyed the Gabrielle x Harry pairing, but none really fit my preferences. This is going to be a very, well, interesting story. It is not the average GDxHP story. Enjoy, and R&R!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Only this measly soul and imagination.

She never really had an interest in boys. She thought she was lesbian, but she also had no interest in girls either. She never really had a good term for it; after a while, she had believed she was a-sexual. She had dreams of a certain black-haired green-eyed person, but she never had a real grasp on who he, or she was. She didn't remember, but whenever she had a dream of the person, she felt warm comfort. She always thought there was a reason she felt like this. Gabrielle was going to find it out.

Oh, so little she knew.

He had enjoyed Hermione's company, but so in a platonic fashion. He was extremely interested in Ginny, but he couldn't think of her that way; she was his best friends' sister, for gods' sake! He couldn't shake the feeling he wouldn't get the blessing of Ron, but the monster inside him wanted every part of him to be with Ginny, to have everything to do with her, to share her bed, but he couldn't do it. Not with the risk of losing the friend of a life-time. There was another thing about his interests; he had a feeling that he couldn't shake. Whenever he slept, he had dreams of a small child. He didn't pride himself on these thoughts, as they where shameful. A child! He was 16, not 10! He also reasoned that it could be platonic dreams, of perhaps, his future child with Ginny. It was impossible, as she has blond hair, with blue eyes. Neither of the two had any of those.

Whatever theory he came up with, he was either perverted, or his theory was completely impractical, or impossible. He had rooted out all of the impossible, the rest where perverted, shameful 'maybe's'. It was time for him to awake; he needed to go to class, after all.

"Wake up! We'll be late!" Ron all but yelled. "I don't like waking up early, but you, you take it to a different level, mate."

"Um, sleep, I'm, um, uh, tired." Harry wasn't completely lying. He also was having the most wonderful dream. He rested into his bed more, and Ron ripped the blankets off of him.

"Bloody hell! Your trousers are wet as a sick trolls handkerchief!" Ron went on, looking in surprise at his best mate's groin area in the trousers. "You havin' dreams about that Cho girl?" Ron had teased. He knew about their fling last summer, and he wasn't going to pass up a chance at getting a shot in. After all, that's what friends do.

"Shuddup!" Harry groaned. He got up to take a shower and change his trousers; he didn't like having sticky liquids in his pants all the time.

"Where are you going? We're going to be late!" Ron so graciously imparted his knowledge onto Harry. Not that Harry was ignorant to the fact; it was more a push to make him go faster.

"You can go, if you enjoy class so much." Harry grumbled.

"No, I just don't enjoy Hermione's yelling at us for being late." Ron mumbled back. Hermione did have a way to tell them they were late in the coldest fashion.

"I really don't think we'll be late if we skip breakfast." Harry passed to Ron.

"Skip breakfast!? Are you mad!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.

"Mad enough to skip breakfast in order to clean up? Well, yes." Harry replied with an irritated look in his eye.

"Well mate, I'm crazy enough to wait for you here, so hurry up." Ron said, as he leaned and slumped down against the a wall.

"Thanks." Harry called back as he headed for the wash room.

"Don't mention it. Really."

Defense against the Dark Arts, Year Six.

It was the last Defense class for the year. He had learned rather interesting things; never doubt that the dark arts were scary as fuck. They learned of a creature that lured magical children and lone travelers, ate their insides, and left a hollow corpse stuffed with dirt. It was interesting to learn how to defeat it, but why the hell would they go into the details of it? What the hell was this curriculum!

Time skip: Battle of the Astronomy tower

"SNAPE! COME BACK HERE! COWARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" Harry screamed. He was so, enormously livid.

"AVADA KEDEVRA!" Harry shouted as he pointed his wand at Severus. Snape was no fool; he quickly conjured a large rock to defend against the spell.

"Stupefy!" Snape yelled. In his blind rage, Harry didn't notice the spell hit him right in the chest. He collapsed shortly after.

TIMESKIP: Battle of Hogwarts

"Remorse. Feel truly sorry for what you did; it's the only way for you to get back your pieces." Harry told the dark lord.

"Do not patronize me, Harry Potter!" Voldemort spat. "I will kill you! I'll deal with Draco later." He yelled. Their spells collided; With his Horcruxes gone, Tom was no match for the sheer power of Harry's magic. Not only was Voldemort weakened considerably, but Harry was also extremely strong, even for his age.

Harry dealt with him quickly. Voldemort fell down mundanely. His eyes, lifeless. Harry realized he had gotten a rush; defeating dark wizards was his favorite hobby now.

TIMESKIP: Adult Harry

Harry, for the fourth time, had brought the Cannons to victory. He was going to join another team, but Ron would've never forgiven him. Winning the championship was an amazing feeling, almost as much a rush as killing Voldemort. He had a lot of money to spend, and he didn't feel like going out with a groupie and sleeping around. So, what better than to have a victory party with the Weasley's?

Once Harry had finally arrived, he was immediately greeted by an ecstatic Ron, happy Hermione, chatting Bill and Fleur, A grinning Fred and George, a discussing Ginny and Molly, and with each remark Molly said, Ginny seemed to blush. There was an Arthur sitting on the couch, sleeping, and a very nervous Fleur's sister sitting in the back.

'I know her!' Harry thought. 'There is some way I know her.'

Sorry for the short chapter, and major time skips. Please Read & Review. Flames will keep me warm at night.


	2. Chapter 2

Veela's object of Affection aren't always happy

AN: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I butchered, juiced, and turned Fleur's accent into a terrible mushy mean dough.

Dgf123: Thank you! Also, sorry for the two-dimensional writing, I'll try harder. I hope I'll eventually get better. Also, it's not more that he forgot Gabrielle, more she looks much different then when she was such a young age.

'Well, I might as well introduce myself.' Harry inwardly thought.

As he approached Gabrielle, he noticed her notice him, and she blushed, deeply. Before he could reach her, she grabbed Fleur and pulled her away.

She whispered something in French. He never took classes, and he didn't know any words.

Gabrielle knew, and she was ecstatic and terrified at the same time.

"It's him! I know it! It is my mate!" She whisper/shouted in French.

"You know, Gabrielle, when you whisper that loud, It doesn't really help." Fleur responded, again In French.

"What should I do! Do something!" Gabrielle again whisper/shouted.

"Okay, let me do something." Fleur told Gabrielle.

"'Arry! 'Arry! Over 'ere!" Fleur called.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"There is the new opening at Beauxbatons! Defence against the Dark Arts! You'll 'Ove it!" Fleur all but yelled.

"Really? I don't know. Quidditch was always a getaway for me." Harry told her.

"You won't 'e playing 'or another 12 months! The weather is too bad! Take 9 of those off at Beauxbatons!" Fleur reasoned.

"Yeah, Fleur, but training, and practice-" he was shortly cut off.

"Come on! You're the best seeker out there! 'Urely there's time for you to teach at Beauxbatons." Fleur once again reasoned.

"But, y'know, I won't remain that way without practice." Harry replied, rubbing the back of his head.

"Come on. You know you'll 'ove it." Fleur pushed. There was an old DADA teacher there, but with Harry Potter as an offer, Madame Maxime would certainly accept.

Harry laughed nervously. He didn't exactly know what to do. He could say yes, but the cannons would definitely have a problem with that. He could say no, but Bill had learned the hard way not to give Veela what they want.

His profession and his Veela sister-in-law (how he considered her, anyway) weighed together, he decided he just loved Quidditch more than teaching.

"How about... No." He gently told Fleur. He was awaiting either an answer, or a demonic bird from hell.

"No isn't an option 'ere 'Arry." Fleur said with finality. "You're going to teach 'or Beauxbatons."

"Why don't I have a say in this?" Harry asked gingerly.

"Because you 'ave a bad judgement." Fleur retorted. "And I 'ave a surprisingly good one."

"I don't really like being forced into things.. For example, the tri-wizard tourn-" Harry carried on, until Fleur interrupted him.

"Non! You vill not complain. We need a very good teacher and you 'appen to be available. Why not?"

Fleur asked. She knew she was being pushy, and that Harry was no push-over. She just needed him to see that working at Beauxbatons would be wonderful for him, and perhaps her younger sister.

Harry was calculating the situation. On one hand, there was a time-passer, and a chance to take place in creating a brighter, albeit in France, generation. On the other, he would have to postpone in-between season training with the cannons, and would have to learn French. Learning French wouldn't be all that bad, Hermione was an excellent teacher, along with the magical properties of magic, he could learn French in an hour. However, the cannons weren't becoming the greatest Quidditch team because the powers-that-be said so.

Ron would never forgive him.

But by the look in her eyes, Fleur wouldn't either.

"I'll think about it, okay?" Harry answered, after a long time of thinking. That was, of course, a half truth. He wasn't going to be the ones to think it over. The Chudley Cannons would!

Chudley Cannons' Locker Room

"Hey, Quentin, could I go on a vacation for ten months?" Harry asked, out of the blue.

This was enough for Quentin, the owner, to spit out his chips.

"What for?" Quentin asked, in disbelief. He wasn't about to let his star player and captain of his team go without knowing where he was going.

"Teaching. Trying something new out." Harry replied. If he said no, no teaching for Harry.

"Well.. Do you really wanna? You really excited about teaching? When is it starting.. No, we'll have a year off due to weather.. Well, I can't stop you. The break due to weather, according to the contract you negotiated, provides you with free-to-use time. And I'm not about to lose my star player. Sure, you can have a 10 month break." Quentin answered.

Beauxbatons entrance

Entire rest of chapter will be in (French)

Written in english, but spoken in French.

Harry did not know why it was so terrible, the weather. He wondered if it was 'Global Warming', whatever the muggles were complaining about. He never understood it; why would the world get colder if it's global warming?

It seemed like a dark lord was only a dark lord for the reason of making the weather bad. It could be the repercussions of killing Voldemort. He could be a ghost, spreading his evil over the land. Or he's just stupid, and it has nothing to do with that.

As he walked through the main gate, his eyes followed someone crying, running out the main gate with a few moving trunks, and glaring at him, giving him a dirty look. As he walked into Madame Maxine's office, she was busy filling out sheets and papers.

"Who was that?" Harry finally asked. He didn't know if it was a teacher, or a student. He certainly didn't want to replace someone on the staff by accord of his own (In truth, Fleur's own) whims.

"The old defense against the dark arts teacher. Also, Harry, when did you become so remarkably good at speaking French? Last time I've seen you you couldn't speak a drop of French." Madame Maxime answered and asked. He'd have to learn, but so fast? Of course, unless he's been to France before, or learnt French awhile ago.

"Actually, I've had Hermione teach me for two weeks. She's a really good teacher, when she gets at it. The magical boost helps, none-the-less." Harry explained.

"Very good. We can't have a teacher here at Beauxbatons, that doesn't know French." Madame Maxime told Harry unbelieving.

"Well, I should get to my quarters, right?" Harry asked nervously, and trotted down to the door. He was about to reach for the handle, until he realized something. "On that hand, where is my quarters?" Harry asked, again, nervously.

"Down the hall, up the tower stairs, third door to the right corridor." Madame Maxime answered, still looking at her papers.

'Talk about confusing.' Harry thought looking at the light blue and dark blue corridors. 'Why couldn't she just say labeled room with a giant 'Teacher' sign in the dark blue hallway?' Harry thought.

As he walked inside, he noticed a very lavish room. It had dark blue bed curtains, a black carpet, and seemed like the room could go on forever. He walked into a room with a large archway leading into it, and noticed something very interesting.

Very Interesting.

"A minibar?!" Harry cried out. He enjoyed reveling in the assorted drinks and ice containers. "Wow, this is probably the best day of my life. I hope they don't charge.." Harry knew this single room was a far cry from the entirety of Number 4, Privet Drive.

"I might just enjoy teaching.." Harry spoke to himself, and started crawling into his bed. He was going to like it here.

Teacher's Lounge

Harry relaxed onto a couch. He noticed a few transfer students with a teacher guide walking through the hall off the reflection of a mirror, and a window. He never thought he was going to be a teacher at Beauxbatons, and he wasn't sure if he was going to enjoy it. He didn't even know the privileges of being a teacher, as he hadn't read the pamphlet yet, if he could even call it a pamphlet. It was a whopper; he didn't read it then, and he most likely wouldn't now. As he got up to walk into the hall, the guide was dismissed, and he greeted the teacher.

"And what's your name?" He asked her. She looked familiar, but he didn't quite remember her. She looked eerily familiar to someone as the party he had recently been to.

"Gabrielle Delacour. And no, I'm not a teacher." Gabrielle told Harry. She looked away, not knowing if he would remember her.

"Delacour? Gabrielle, Gabrielle... Gabrielle" Harry kept on repeating the name and snapping, as to remember who she was. Gabrielle herself would stop him, but a thought stopped her.

'He is extraordinarily cute like that.' And with that thought, she cutely giggled and waited for him to remember.

"Fleur! Fleur's sister, right? Second task! Wow, you've grown up. Feels like Eight years ago." Harry finally answered. He always loved witty comments.

She giggled at the joke, and looked him in the eye. "You remember,

Eh? Your French is better then.. Well, at the wedding." She fluttered her eyebrows and walked away.

He mentally face palmed. How could he forget the wedding!

"Have a good day!" Harry called out to her. 'She really did grow up... Filled out, too.' He shook his head and reprimanded him for the thoughts. 'She's only sixteen, what am I, a sicko!'

And with that, he returned to his quarters, and read the pamphlet.

'Wow.. This is a lot.'

The end for today's chapter! Hope you liked it! Thanks to all of those who have reviewed!


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